“The yellow footprints called.” 

“But now this book will be ready for them to read, and to help them answer knowledgeably, should the yellow footprints call.” 

Williams bookends his memoir with the yellow footprints to show the path his life has followed. In the beginning, he knew little about being a Marine except what Lenny had told him; in the end, he wants his children to read of his journey through training, combat, education, and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder—the journey to the person he is today—in case they decide to join the Corps. He understands that the Marine Corps is not for everyone, and he understands that much of his journey was harrowing and full of hardship. But he believes that once a path is begun, a person should see it through to the end. He also believes that being educated can better help a person on his or her path. 

“There we stood for the first time on Parris Island, four columns of fifteen bodies, perfectly aligned and covered. While most were shivering from fear or anxiety, I was in ecstasy. I was finally standing tall on the yellow footprints, as my brother had fourteen years before. The emotional rush lifted my spirits and cushioned my ego from the verbal assault being dealt by the receiving drill instructors. The rush was intoxicating. I was no longer just reading about recruit training. I was living it.” 

For years, Williams has wanted to join the Marine Corps, and now that he is there, he is excited. He is also naive. Within hours, he will begin to experience the anger that will mark so much of his training, but here, he is allowing his brother’s memory to give him strength.